“No,” said Byron. “You wouldn’t.”
“You were right,” Jane told him. “She does remind me of my sister. So much so that I decided I can’t live without her. This way we can be together forever.”
Lucy approached the couch. “You said you loved me,” she hissed at Byron. “But you were only using me to get to Jane.”
She knelt on the floor at Jane’s feet. Jane placed her hand protectively on Lucy’s head, stroking her hair. In response, Lucy opened her mouth, revealing two shiny white fangs.
“You see?” Jane said to Byron. “You have nothing left to threaten me with.”
“I could still kill them,” said Byron.
Jane laughed. “And risk being branded a traitor?” she said. “You know the rules as well as I do. You’d be hunted to the ends of the earth.”
She actually didn’t know if this was true, but she had heard as much, and hoped Byron had as well. She waited for him to respond, and was surprised when all he did was stand up and go to the door. He didn’t look back as he left the house.
“What was that?” Lucy asked after a minute had gone by with no sign of his return.
Jane shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “I think it means he believed it.”
Lucy reached up and removed the set of plastic vampire teeth she’d been wearing. “Thank God they still had some of these at the drugstore,” she said, rubbing her gums. “I thought with Halloween over they’d be out.”
“You played the part very well,” said Jane. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Lucy said. “You did all the work. Frankly, I can’t believe he fell for it.”
“We took away his options,” Jane said. “Without you or Walter he had nothing to threaten me with.”
“Except that Walter doesn’t know about you and I’m not a vampire,” Lucy reminded her.
“But Brian doesn’t know that,” Jane reminded her. “And there’s really no way for him to find out.”
“He must have been a real jerk when he was alive,” Lucy commented.
Jane considered telling her that she’d just escaped being made a vampire by one of the most famous romantic figures of all time. Lucy would probably love that. But the less the girl knew about Byron, the less she would know about Jane. Jane still wasn’t ready to tell her everything.
“Do I really remind you of your sister?” Lucy asked.
Jane nodded. “Yes,” she said. “You do.”
“What was her name?”
Jane hesitated. Should she invent a sister to keep her life a mystery? Lucy would believe whatever she was told.
“Cassandra,” she said. “Cassie.”
“Cassie,” Lucy repeated. “It’s a pretty name.”
“She would have liked you,” said Jane.
They sat together, looking into the fire. Jane thought about Cassie. Lucy really was quite like her. Both had a fine sense of humor. Both took life as it came to them. Both made her feel as though she had someone in the world whom she could trust.
“What do we do now?” Lucy said.
“We wait and see,” said Jane. “Mr. George is going to do whatever it is he’s going to do. We’ll deal with it when it happens.”
“I can’t believe I thought he liked me,” said Lucy. “What an idiot.”
“No more than I was once,” Jane told her. “I believed him as well.”
“But he does love you,” said Lucy.
Jane shook her head. “He doesn’t,” she said. “He just wants to believe he does. He’s starting to realize how lonely it is spending eternity alone.”
“Eternity,” said Lucy. “That’s a long time.” She laughed at her own joke. Jane, despite the silliness of it, did too. Then Lucy grew serious. “Will you really live forever?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Jane answered. “Legends certainly say so, but I’ve found that legends are often just that. Still, it’s already been quite a while.”
“The Great Depression quite a while or the fall of Rome quite a while?” Lucy asked.
Jane rapped her on top of her head. “Enough questions,” she said. “All in good time.”
Lucy groaned. “You’ve got to tell me
“Another legend,” Jane said. “The devil has nothing to do with it. My soul is still intact, thank you very much. But you’re right; I do owe you something. So here’s a clue—I once sat around a table while Madame Blavatsky attempted to summon my ghost for a group of curiosity seekers. She had no idea I was sitting across from her, and you can imagine my surprise when my spirit began to speak to the assembled guests. What a fraud she was, that one.”
“Gee, that narrows it down,” Lucy said. “Thanks.”
“I’m afraid it’s all you’re getting for tonight,” said Jane. “Now it’s up to the guest room with you. I think it’s best if you stay here tonight. It’s difficult to say what Byron—Brian—will do.”
Lucy looked at her and started to say something. Then she turned and walked to the stairs. “Good night,” she said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night,” Jane called back. “I’ll be up in a bit myself. I just want to lock up down here.”
Lucy continued upstairs while Jane busied herself locking the door. She wondered if Lucy had heard her slip of the tongue and, if so, had understood what it meant.
She checked the kitchen door and the windows, although it was rather pointless. Byron would be able to get into the house if he really wanted to. But it made her feel better to do it. Afterward she sat down in a chair by the fire. Although she enjoyed it, she didn’t have to sleep, and she thought she might as well stay up and make sure Lucy was safe. A moment later Tom jumped into her lap and curled up.
Jane opened up a book and started to read, but her thoughts kept returning to Byron. Would he really leave them alone? As much as she wanted to believe that the ruse had convinced him that he had no options left for blackmailing her, she wasn’t satisfied that this was the case. Lucy couldn’t play at being a vampire forever, and eventually he would see through her disguise. As for Walter, it would take only one pointed conversation with him for Byron to see that he had no idea what was going on.
Jane was relying on Byron’s pride to be his undoing. He hated losing, particularly in matters of the heart, and she hoped that what he believed to be his defeat in that arena would force him to leave. If he didn’t, she was going to
“Did I make a mistake?” she asked Tom. He looked at her for a moment, yawned, and went back to sleep.
“I thought you’d say that,” said Jane.
She returned to the book. The beginning was slow, and she hoped it would get better. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter 18
She longed to show the poems to Charles. She wanted to hear him read them aloud, and ached to know his opinion of them. Yet the thought of disclosing her passion to him and risking the possibility that he might laugh at her was worse even than having him turn away in disgust at learning of her involvement with Jonathan Brut.
“What do you mean, he’s gone?”
Jane and Lucy exchanged a glance as they waited for Walter to answer Jane’s question.
